Out West to Kirkwall
by Defiant.Anjeru
Summary: Wild West AU. Hawke returns to Kirkwall upon the news of her mother's death. Home isn't home, under the rule of tyrannical Sheriff Meredith and over run by the Blood Pack outlaws. With the help of an outlaw's white-haired tattooed slave, a handsome amber-eyed deputy, and a blonde bartender who is more than he appears, Hawke will make a stand to reclaim her home. Full DAII cast.
1. Home

**A/N: **This is a take on a wild west alternate universe for Dragon Age II. The full cast, plus some others, will make an appearance. I couldn't get the idea out of my mind so I was determined to take a shot at it; since Catalysis has short chapters, I figured I had room to work on a slightly more lengthy Dragon Age fic, since I have two of the sort going for Mass Effect. I don't know if this has been done before, but I wanted to write something original for a fan fic. Since this is an AU, knowledge of Dragon Age II beyond the characters isn't entirely necessary.

The M-rating is for violence, coarse language, prostitution(who would fit that role better than Isabela, after all lol), and eventual smut.

All feedback is highly appreciated and more than welcome. So, if you have a moment, please do leave a review. They motivate me like you wouldn't believe. Thank-you for even reading!

Disclaimer: Despite the AU, all characters originally belong to Bioware.

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Out West to Kirkwall

Chapter One: Home

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Josephine Hawke pulled the brim of her hat down to keep the high noon sun from blinding her. Already the heat of it made her journey uncomfortable, her blouse clinging to her perspiring skin, but at least she didn't have much farther to go. Kirkwall wasn't far now. She swung up her canteen, unscrewed the lid, and allowed herself of moment to indulge in the water within.

Maker, on a ride this long, water never tasted sweeter.

It was almost surreal to be returning home. Years ago her father had been shot down by bandits. Shortly after, her uncle had gambled away their ranch. Her mother had become depressed and withdrawn, almost sick, as if she were slowly dying to follow her husband. Carver, her brother, had become a drunk. Josephine left Kirkwall to become a bounty hunter, finding and escorting wanted outlaws to proper authorities for coin, coin needed by her surviving family and in time, coin to buy back the family ranch.

Her plans had been put on hold as of a week ago. Sweet Bethany, her sister and twin to Carver, had sent her a letter to tell her that their mother had died. It was the first and only letter she'd received from any of her family in the three years she'd been gone and Hawke felt that she at least owed it to her mother to return and see to it she received a proper burial. A burial on the ranch that rightfully belonged to the Hawke's. One way or the other, she was going to see it done.

She shook her head to clear it, swiping the back of her hand across her brow. Maker she could use a bath. Soon, she promised herself. She clucked her tongue and pulled on the reigns, clicking her feet against the sides of her horse to get the old girl moving. Hooves stirred up the dirt as the horse began a gallop on the trail that led down the mountainside.

It wasn't long before the town came into view; she could see the familiar dirt roads, the saloon, the jail, the bank, it was all there as she remembered it. She knew if she took the roads further out to the edge of town, she would see the ranch that was once theirs. If she had her way, it would be theirs again and soon.

Unfamiliar people went about their business in the streets and buildings, coming and going from the general store or the barber, living their lives. Eyes watched as she slowed her horse to a relaxed trot, urging her through the bodies that were now whispering no doubt using her as fuel for gossip.

The saloon was her first stop. Bethany's letter had briefly mentioned her employment in the establishment as a saloon girl; never would she suspect her baby sister of being a painted lady or a prostitute, she held firm in her faith that her sister was doing honest work. And if Carver was still the bar brawling drunk he used to be, Hawke could see Bethany keeping a job in the saloon to keep an eye on their brother; they were twins, she and Carver, and had a bond that, even as their sister, Hawke couldn't fully comprehend.

Hawke swung herself off of her horse and urged her toward the hitching rail where she loosely tied her. Her gloved hand patted her muzzle affectionately to reassure her all was well before she turned away to head up the steps, her boots almost loud as she moved toward the doors. She could see the drunkards inside, burly men laughing and chatting loudly with one another. Her sister was no where to be found; information was a commodity in towns like these and the best bet was usually the bar tender.

She swung the doors open and paid no mind to the looks given to her as she walked her way to the bar, sliding herself to sit upon one of the stools. "Pardon me."

The man behind the bar turned to face her and the first thing she noticed was how warm his amber eyes were. His hair was a sun-kissed blond and was pulled back in a tail; his jaw square and sprinkled with dark stubble; his nose was strong, almost regal. He was unfamiliar to her, so he must have rolled into town after she had left.

He smiled as he toweled a glass dry in his strong hands. "How can I help you, miss...?"

"Josephine. Josephine Hawke." She nodded her head in introduction, popping her chin her hand as she set her elbow on the bar top. "I'm looking for someone."

His dark brows rose when she said her name; he may not know her, but he seemed to know _of _her. "Your sister?"

"Aha, you see right through me. Bethany always did like telling stories of me," she chuckled with a small smile.

"She only has nice things to say, I assure you." He chuckled.

"Now that I doubt. There's not much nice about an old gal like me."

He grinned and shook his head. "Now that _I _doubt."

Hawke smirked; a smooth talker, he was. Not hard to believe, given his looks. "Bethany sent me a letter to tell me of our mother's passing. I've come back to see the matter properly taken care of. Is she around?"

The man's expression fell somewhat at her words. "Ah yes, I was with Leandra in her final moments. Such a sweet woman. I'm sorry for your loss." He finished with the glass and set it on the counter behind him, picking up another and drying it as he had the one before it. "Bethany is bailing her brother out...again."

"Maker, what are we going to do with that boy?" Hawke sighed. "I suppose I should go help her kick some sense into him. Thank you, ah – I didn't get your name."

"Anders." He extended his hand and she slipped off her gloves, before shaking it. He _was _cleaning his glass ware, it would be rude to dirty his hand with her dirt and dust covered gloves.

"It's a pleasure, Anders. Thanks for the information." She hopped down from the stool and slid her gloves into her pouch. Without a backward glance, she left the saloon and headed for the Sheriff's office down the street.

Again, eyes watched as she went and Hawke started feeling suspiciously like someone who had been left out of the loop. Her family had been well respected until Gamlen had lost their home; could things really have changed so drastically in the last three years?

"Again, Carver?" She could hear Bethany's voice as she stepped through the doors.

"Don't dare lecture me. Just get me out of here," came Carver's gruff reply. As surly as ever, Hawke noticed.

"Perhaps I should just leave you in there for once. Josie would."

"Don't you dare!" Carver snapped and she could hear the distinct sound of boot hitting bar. "I don't bloody care what our sister would do. She isn't here now, is she?"

Hawke sighed and rolled her eyes. A tall man came around the corner and cocked his head when he noticed her standing in the center of the room. "Sibling tiff," he supplied, nodding his head to indicate the hall behind him.

Her lips pulled into a tight smile. "I'm well aware. They are my family, after all."

"Ah! Josie!" He came toward her with a happy smile, his arms pulling her into a hug she didn't refuse, not after she realized that it was Cullen she was talking to. He'd changed a lot in the last three years; he'd gotten taller, more muscular, his short blond hair and stubble slightly darker. And he certainly wasn't an officer of the law when she'd left.

He pulled back and she grinned up into his soft amber eyes. "Cullen, my my how you've grown." She chuckled as she stepped back from him. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too. I was starting to wonder if you'd ever come back."

"Family problems," she supplied this time, nodding toward where Bethany and Carver were still arguing.

"Yeah." He frowned and took her hand, squeezing her slim hand affectionately. "I'm sorry about your mother, Josie."

She gave a soft smile and squeezed his much larger hand in return. "I've been expecting it for years now. She was never the same since father died."

He nodded and released her hand. "Nothing has been the same. Kirkwall has changed, and not for the better."

She went to ask what he meant, but his familiar eyes took a guarded look that she knew all too well, that said not to press further. She'd missed this man, and at one time, she'd had tender feelings for him(how could she not?), but as they both had said, since the bandits had rolled through and killed her father, nothing had been the same. Not even for them. "I'll pay my brother's bail. How much?"

"Don't worry about it." She moved to deny his dismal, but he shook his head. "For old times, if nothing else. I missed you Josie."

"Missed you too." She playfully knocked her fist against his arm, clicking her tongue.

"Good to see you haven't changed," he chuckled. "Wait here. I'll get them for you." He turned and headed back around the corner down the hall; Hawke was almost ashamed of herself when her eyes dipped down to the tight fit of his trousers on his muscled backside. Almost.

He had changed. Grown, become more handsome. Almost rugged. She was still short, and still thin, though she didn't lack curves; the most change she'd experienced was the longer length of her hair that now, when loose, spilled in auburn curls to her mid back. He was out of her league now, she decided to note. Not that she had come home for that. No, there were more important tasks at hand.

"Sister?" Bethany's voice brought her eyes up and just in time. The younger, dark haired curl came flying at her, nearly tackling her as she wrapped her arms tightly around Hawke's neck. Hawke's arms came around her and returned the tight embrace, her heart tightening almost painfully; out of all her family, sweet Bethany was the one she'd missed more than anything. "You came home!"

Hawke regretfully stepped back and playfully ruffled the girl's dark curls; Bethany had changed too. Taller, more filled out(she definitely wasn't lacking in the curves, she noticed, given the deep cut of her dress). "Of course I came home. I wasn't planning on staying away forever."

"Could have fooled me," Carver mumbled from behind his sister. Hawke raised her eyes to look at him, narrowing them at the show of his disrespect. He was taller too, more muscular, but he was ragged; his hair was shaggy and needed a cut, and he was in desperate need of a shave(if that smell was him as she suspected, he was in need of a bath as well).

"You're lucky she came to get you out, brother. I would have left your ass in there to do some thinking." Hawke shook her head. "Aren't you growing rather sick of this routine by now? We aren't always going to be around to bail you out."

"I can handle myself."

"Yeah," she rolled her eyes. "That much is clear." She turned her attention from her siblings to Cullen who had come to stand with them. "I want to bury my mother on the Amell's land."

His eyes hardened again and he folded his arms across his chest. "You know I can't let you do that. That land belongs to someone else now."

"I have the money to buy it back," Hawke assured.

"I kind of doubt that, Josie. Sheriff Meredith owns the land now."

"Meredith?" Hawke's brows rose at that. When she had left, Meredith had been nothing more than a overly religious deputy. For her to be Sheriff...that had to mean that Orsino had been killed, or he'd retired. "What happened to Orsino?"

"I told you, much has changed around here," he said cryptically. Something was off here, she could feel it. Orsino had never mentioned wanting to retire. In fact, after her father had been murdered, he had seemed more fired up to do his job than before. Though she supposed it was likely he could have died. That was something that happened a lot out here. It wasn't exactly an easy life.

"Let's not worry about it now, sister." Bethany took her hand. "I have a room at the inn. You can stay with me."

Hawke nodded, even though she was suddenly very anxious and on edge. She had grown certain instincts after becoming a bounty hunter and all those instincts were screaming at her that things here weren't nearly as kept together as they seemed.

It had been three years, after all. A lot can happen in three years. She was beginning to realize that.


	2. Prisoner

**A/N: **I know how drastic of an AU this is and I am so grateful that many of you decided to give this a chance. I am so excited to write this! Thank you so much for your reviews! I apologize for the delay; I was really, really sick and even had to go to the ER this week. I appreciate your patience, and understanding.

In this chapter we will meet Fenris! Are you as excited as I am? :3

Disclaimer: The characters of Dragon Age belong to Bioware, but the AU was totally all my idea.

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Out West to Kirkwall

Chapter Two: Prisoner

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That first night Hawke found herself unable to sleep, even after a long, relaxing, and much needed, bath. Endless hours were spent tossing and turning amongst the meager bed spread as sleep eluded her. Finally into the late hours of the night, she gave up and rolled out of the bed, quickly shucking off the night slip her sister had lent her. She padded over to her pack and dug out her spare clothes, which she immediately slipped into; a pair of dark brown trousers and a white blouse. Her boots were still dusty bit she slid them on anyway, next applying her belt and holsters; she wasn't about to wander about the town at this time of night without her revolvers. Scratch that, not without her knife either.

Out of habit she tied up her long auburn curls and placed her hat on her head before she left the room. Bethany was still at the saloon and so was Carver; if her sister was done working for the night, she was no doubt keeping an eye on her twin. Maker, her pesky brother had only gotten worse since she'd left this town. If Cullen's behavior was any indication, the whole town was worse off. Had her leaving really affected everything so adversely? There was no way. This probably would have happened whether or not she left, but she could have at least done more for her family even if she had left _for _them.

She thought back on Cullen's words; the sheriff owned her family's property now and it didn't seem that she would be able to get it back, money or not. That didn't sit right with her.

Decision made, she headed down the hall and down the stairs. The inn was quiet and empty given the time of night, which was better for her. She didn't want anyone to ask her where she was headed, technically what she was going to do was trespassing. If Cullen caught her on the property, he could throw her into a cell for the night – or longer – though she could hope what they had might get her out of it; not that she wanted to rely on that.

She slipped out quietly and found her horse – Lea – nickering softly where she was tied to the hitching rail. Hawke's hand smoothed over her snout, then untied the reigns, before she grabbed a hold of the saddle and swung herself onto the mare's back. Gathering the reigns in her hands, she gently yanked them to the right so that Lea would do a round about.

Hawke's eyes swept over the road; empty, for the most part, save a drunk patron or two leaving the saloon. She clicked her feet in the stirrups to get Lea into a solid gallop down the dirt road that ran the center of town; the sooner she made it out, the less likely she was to attract unwanted attention to herself and what she was up to. It wasn't long before the buildings began to grow further and further apart from each other, until there were none at all.

Once her eyes picked up on the outlining fences of her family's ranch, she pulled back on Lea's reigns to slow her down and eventually stop her. She took a careful look around; whether or not the ranch was abandoned, it didn't seem as if they had anyone out this far. Her lithe form slid off of the saddle and she carefully tied Lea to the wooden fence, once more soothing her with a gentle pat.

"Stay here girl. I shouldn't be long, just going to get a quick look to see what Meredith's up to."

Her body turned and she grasped the top wooden beam of the fence, hiking herself up so she could hop over it. She landed easily enough and her hand carefully pulled one of her revolvers free, to have it ready to fire should the need occur. She hoped it wouldn't, but the last three years as a bounty hunter had taught her to overly-cautious. She made her way through the quiet outlay of land, and when she caught the outline of the stables, she realized she was walking through where the horses grazed. Best to check the stables first anyway; if anyone was holed up here, horses would likely be penned up inside.

The moon was half moon and yet when she reached the stable, it was nearly impossible to see inside clearly. Revolver at the ready, she carefully opened one of the horses' pen doors and slipped inside. She heard no sounds of hooves scuffling the floor, or soft nickering of horses; in fact, it was almost _too _quiet. Why would Meredith buy her ranch just to leave it abandoned? Unless the woman herself lived here, but then, even the sheriff had a horse, so where was it?

A soft groan made her halt, gun at the ready. No footsteps followed. She pressed her back to the wood of the door in the pen that led into the stables. A few moments passed and nothing. She chewed her lip thoughtfully before deciding to slip inside. The door creaked a bit and she winced, but moved through quickly regardless of that. She could feel the shuffle of hay under her boots as she moved down the hall of horse stalls.

Another, louder, groan had her halting again. This time it was closer. There was a shuffle of noise, then a thump of something against the dirt floor. Her revolver was slid back into its holster as she made her way to where she'd heard the sounds, stopping only when she heard the faint sound of someone breathing. The stall was locked; but it didn't stay that way for long as she took one of her revolvers and used the butt to beat the lock until it broke and fell to the ground. A growl followed the sound and she felt herself shudder.

_There can't be a wild animal in there, I heard a voice, and I hear breathing, _she reasoned. _Unless they are feeding a wild animal, I suppose. _

The thought made her stomach flip uneasily; bounty hunter or not, she preferred not to see a coyote or wolf – or whatever was in there – eating its way through a corpse.

On the off chance that their was someone in need of help though, she couldn't very walk away with a clean conscious.

Her gaze landed on her revolver; should she keep it at the ready, or walk in hands up in a sign of peace? With a sigh, knowing she was probably an idiot, she slid her revolver back into the holster. Her hands found the edge of the stall door and slowly pushed it open; the growl grew in volume, but she pressed forward, pressing the door shut with her back as she let her eyes adjust to the dimness of the stall.

A shock of white hair met her gaze first, then a lean, half naked body held against the stall wall by ropes; ropes that had the man's arms stretched up high above his head, wrists tied together. His head hung forward, making it almost impossible to see his face, but the growl insinuated that he should be conscious, considering she didn't see anyone – or anything – else inside the confines of the stall. Tattoos covered the length of his body, intricate and in designs she had never seen before; his chin, his throat, chest, arms, to his hands, even down the length of his torso to disappear into the meager brown trousers he wore. There were also a multitude of cuts, bruises, abrasions, as if he'd been tortured; tied up and left in here, she had no doubt he could have been tortured as well.

She cautiously approached, kneeling down in front of him. He jerked, head snapping up even as he snapped his teeth at her, dark green eyes glaring nearly literal daggers at her. He had a delicate face, with a long nose, thin but attractive lips, and dark brows – a contradiction to his shockingly white hair; he obviously wasn't an old man, so the hair was unusual. He growl and she felt herself shudder; with fear, or desire, she couldn't say.

"So Danarius and Hadriana have decided to send one of their lackey's to finally finish me off, hm?" He nearly growled the words, though she knew it was impossible to do so; a deep baritone that sounded very much like a growl, a voice that stroked over her in an almost dark caress. Who the hell was this man?

"Keep your voice down; who knows who will hear you," she muttered as she came closer, though he growled again in warning to her close proximity.

"Who are you?" His unusually jade eyes narrowed on her. "Your voice...it is not familiar."

"You know all the voices of your captors then?" She asked as she pulled her knife free from the inside of her boot. He growled at the glint of the moon as it reflected off the blade. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"Your knife says otherwise."

"It's just as good for cutting rope as it is for slicing skin, I assure you."

He contemplated her for a long moment, lips pressed together thinly. "Who are you?" He asked again.

"It doesn't really matter who I am." She shrugged her shoulders; there was no point in divulging important information until she knew who exactly she was dealing with. "What I'd like to know is who you are."

"I'm a slave," he spat viciously, a scowl over his features. "What does my name matter?"

"It matters to me."

"You do not know me," he growled.

"So? My father always said 'a stranger today is a friend tomorrow'."

He sighed, long and loud. She wondered if he would rub his brow in irritation if his hands weren't tied up. She kind of had that effect on people who didn't know her; often she was an exasperation. Hard to deal with, Carver often said. Too head strong and stubborn.

"Fenris. You may call me Fenris," he finally muttered.

The way he said it made her think it wasn't his real name. "Is Fenris your real name?"

He growled and readjusted, the strain on his arms no doubt painful. "Does it matter? It's the only name I remember and what they call me."

"Who's they?" She wasn't entirely sure if she could trust him yet, but he was injured and it wasn't in her to leave him like this. She rose off her haunches to use her knife quickly to sever the ropes binding his arms above his head. His arms dropped to the ground with a thump and he groaned, hunching over them for a moment before he rested on his knees and slowly straightened himself. She knelt again.

"Danarius and Hadriana," the names were clearly filled with venom. If words could kill, she knew the two he named would be dead.

"Are they your captors?" She lifted his wrists and effortlessly slid the knife through the rope, despite the way he tensed. The ropes fell free and he rubbed his raw flesh as he nodded. "What can you tell me about them?"

He frowned. "What need do you have to know of my captors?"

"Alright Fenris," she sighed as she slid her knife back into her boot. "My name is Josephine Hawke. This land used to belong to my family, until my uncle stupidly gambled it away. So – I would like to know, considering I've been told this land is in the Sheriff's hands, why a slave is being held here and who exactly is inhabiting my property."

"If what you say is true, then the property is not yours."

"For now," she snapped, irritation evident in her tone of voice. "I brought the money to purchase the land, but was denied. If there are slavers on my land, I will deal with them, with or without a deed."

He regarded her thoughtfully. "I can respect that," he said, softly.

"Good, now – tell me about this Danarius and Hadriana. Why are they here?"

"They are the leaders of the Blood Pack. The kidnapped me when I was a child. They delight in torturing me, using me for whatever means they decide upon. Other than that, I cannot tell you much else."

"Blood Pack?" She snarled the words. "My father's murderers stay on _my _land, and Meredith does nothing?" She stood and folded her arms. "I have to speak to Cullen."

"Who is that?" He gingerly pushed himself to his feet, grimacing a little as he shuffled between feet to test his balance and strength.

"He's a friend, and a deputy."

Fenris scoffed. "If he is a deputy, I wouldn't trust him."

Hawke turned on him with a glare. "Why?"

His brows rose. "If the sheriff is allowing outlaws on your land, I wouldn't trust her subordinates."

She sighed loud. Then turned her glare on him. "That is up to me to decide. In the meantime, you are welcome to attempt escape on your own or return to town with me."

Fenris eyed her warily for a moment, as if gauging whether or not she was the better of the two presented choices. "For now, I shall accompany you."

"Good choice."


	3. Off-Kilter

**A/N: **Thank you so much for your support; reviews, alerts, and favorites. All of it means so much to me, you have no idea! I really didn't expect much of a following with a piece like this, but I am glad it is doing well! I am very excited to write it, so it is good to know that many of you are just as excited to be reading it. I was very nervous about undertaking such an AU, as a lot of it has to be filled in with original fixings, of which I am still becoming accustomed to. So thank you again!

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Bioware, but the AU and Josephine Hawke are all mine; I make no profit in writing this, but will enjoy doing so anyway.

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Out West to Kirkwall

Chapter Three: Off-Kilter

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Riding back to town had not went without its difficulties. Well, it wasn't exactly difficult. More along the lines of distracting. How could it not be, with Fenris riding behind her, his arms around her waist so that his hands – very nice hands, she noted – could hold the reigns with her for more stability atop the galloping beast. There really had not been any other choice, not if she wanted to get him back to town to treat his wounds before something out in the desert got the lacerations infected. Now if she could have kept her thoughts innocent, then the ride would have went smoothly, but did her mind cooperate with her? Of course it didn't.

The ride to town wasn't long, not compared to some of the rides she'd been on before, but it had also been a really long time since she'd ridden with such a fine specimen of a man. Rides with Cullen had often proved to be just as distracting.

Fenris was a stranger however, where as she'd grown up with Cullen. That didn't seem to dampen the natural attraction to the tattooed man, though. Not if the way her body tingled was any indication.

_You know nothing about this man, except that he was being held against his will. Remember; always play cautious until all the facts are in. _She repeated the last bit as a mantra the entire way back to the inn. A distraction, if nothing else. Anything to keep her thinking of how she could feel the heat and definition of his chest on her back, even through her blouse, or the way his arms felt around her, or even the way she could feel his breath as it fell against the shell of her ear; really, how was a girl supposed to keep her mind clear under this kind of duress?

The ride seemed to take an eternity, but once it was over, it felt as if it had been over far too soon. Condescending, she knew, but it did little to deter the thought. She tied Lea to the hitching post as Fenris dismounted, somewhat uncomfortably, from the horse. He was no doubt in pain, having been tied up and tortured; the lacerations had to be stinging at the very least, and his muscles were probably strained. She would take him to the room and then head over to the saloon, see if Bethany, or even Anders, knew where a doctor could be found.

"You doing alright?" He grunted and nodded, though he winced slightly as he adjusted his stance. "Let's get you up to the room, then I can find you a doctor." She turned to head inside, but with no sound following her, she stopped at the top of steps to find that he hadn't moved, a pensive frown on his lips. "What is it?"

"I will be staying in...your room?" A dark brow raised with the inquiry. She found herself blushing at the curious implication in his tone; why did the implication even make her blush? Maker, having this man around was going to throw her off, she could already tell.

"The hour is very late, the staff is likely asleep. It's just until I can find someone to pay to rent you your own room," she shrugged her shoulder, trying to appear indifferent, "I would offer you my ranch, but it was clear you didn't want to stay there."

"It is not yours to offer," he reminded. Unnecessarily.

Josephine rolled her eyes and threw up her hands in exasperation. "Why does everyone feel the need to remind me of that little fact? Never mind. Doesn't matter. Inside, then I can try to find a doctor to take a look at those wounds."

When she headed inside she could hear his barefoot steps behind her and silently thanked whatever god, or maker, there was that he hadn't insisted they stand there and converse longer. She didn't need more implications about sleeping in the same room with him, but she knew this wasn't going to be the end of it, as it wasn't really her room to lend. The room was her sister's and she was sure Bethany would have something to say about this, even _if _she was the understanding and caring of the twins.

Once inside the room, she waved him over to sit on the bed. He grumbled but did so and she couldn't help but chuckle to herself; he certainly was a bit surly, wasn't he? Couldn't blame him though, if what he had told her on the ranch was the truth.

"How are you feeling?" She asked as he sat gingerly on the mattress.

"As one should when being strung up, beaten, and starved for a couple of days," he mumbled, stretching out one arm, then the other, Hawke's eyes fascinated with the movements(though she tried to justify it by saying she was fascinated by his tattoos, not the flesh they decorated).

She winced, visibly and audibly. She hadn't stopped to think his captors had starved him, though it was a logical and natural assumption. If you were going to torture your captive, why not add starvation; it was a mental and physical torture, one she could remember from the starting days of her career as a bounty hunter. She didn't like the remember that feeling, and she certainly didn't like to think of him having that empty, body eating itself, feeling; he was already so very lanky(in a good way), he couldn't afford to even lose a few pounds. Not without it affecting him adversely.

She strode purposefully to her pack and dug through it for the jerky, dried meat, she usually ate when on the road. He gazed at her carefully when she held it out to him as an offer; she chuckled. "Don't worry, it's not poisoned."

"You can never be too sure," he defended as he plucked up the thin strips of meat. He sniffed them experimentally, as if he could scent poison – who knew, maybe he could. He was strange, that was certain. She'd never seen a young man have such strikingly snow white hair, or really, such jade eyes, and never once had she seen someone covered head to toe in tattoos. She was fascinated, watching intently, as he tore into the meat with his perfectly white, strong teeth, jaw moving as he chewed thoughtfully, before swallowing with a groan.

A groan that made her suddenly uncomfortable to be so close to him. Time to busy herself. She moved back and paced away from him toward the door. "Stay here, I'll see if I can find someone who can help with your wounds."

"I don't need a doctor."

Josephine rolled her eyes. Typical. Men would never, if her experiences were any indication, admit willingly to needing assistance. Or ask for directions. "Given the condition in which I found you," she huffed, placing her hands on her hips as she faced him, "I assume you are familiar with how quickly infections crop up out here."

He paused in his devouring of the jerky to peer at her, a brow raised as he surveyed her cocky posture. She suddenly felt self conscious under his gaze and dropped her hands, shuffling her stance under his scrutinizing jade gaze. "I admit that I know, but I am fine."

"I rescued you," she pointed at him stubbornly, "and I am going to make sure you are at least not in danger of falling to infection."

"You cannot clean and bandage wounds?"

She flushed red, biting her cheek to stop the snarky retort she felt hiding on the tip of her tongue. She knew how to clean and bandage wounds; she was the oldest of three, and a bounty hunter – it would be insulting if she _didn't _know how. It was just that she didn't want to touch him; no, that wasn't the truth. She wanted to touch him, she just didn't trust herself to. If she cleaned him, bandaged him, touched that every so appealing flesh, would she be able to stop at the medicinal aspects? Or would she continue on and end up making a fool of herself? More likely it would be the latter. She'd never been really good at dealing with men.

Cullen was a prime example of that, but she wasn't going to think on that, not right now.

"I can, but I am not entirely adept at finding infections," she lied. "I'll find a doctor, and then return. Do not answer the door for anyone other than myself and a young, dark-haired woman named Bethany."

She didn't wait for an answer. She was out the door before he could even form one, running out of the inn like the devil was nipping at her heels.

* * *

"Carver! Really!" Bethany threw her hands up in exasperation. "You're going to end up in jail again tonight, you know this?"

"Don't care," Carver grunted, slamming his mug down on the table in front of him. Liquor splashed onto his hand and he eagerly lapped it off, making the man at the table laugh and Bethany cringe.

"Of course you don't care."

"Your brother is a bit thick headed, isn't he?" Anders laughed. He wiped down the bar with a rag, pausing for a moment when from the corner of his eye, he saw the eldest of the Hawke siblings striding inside. "What say you, Josephine? Is your brother as thick-headed and careless as he seems?"

"More so," she snorted as she came up to the bar. "He's also stupid, lazy, and a pain in the ass."

"Some lady you are," Carver slurred. Then he laughed triumphantly as he slammed his cards down on the table top. "Sucker...full house! Pay up!"

"I think you're cheating, junior," the man laughed, through he shrugged with wide shoulders. Hawke turned to glance at him; an accusation of cheating was never good, and she didn't want to have to help her brother again, but if the need arose, well, she was sure she would. Family loyalty and all that. The man's amber eyes twinkled mischievously, a glint in them much like the glint that came from his rather thick earrings. He laid his own cards down on the table, clapping together his gloved hands. "Straight flush. If you are going to cheat, cheat better."

"Don't call me junior," Carver snapped, before grumbling and drowning himself in the remaining liquor in his mug.

Josephine couldn't help herself. She laughed softly. It wasn't often one could shut Carver up. "My brother has an inferiority complex, don't mind him. My name is - "

"Josephine Hawke," the blonde poker player said for her. "One of the most famous bounty hunter names out there. It's no wonder junior here has such a complex."

"Shut up!" Carver pushed himself up roughly from the table, stumbling over to the bar to demand a refill from Anders, who, after sharing a glance with Hawke, shook his head. "Dam...Damn it, I pay. Gimme...give me my - "

"Carver, you shut up." Hawke snapped impatiently. She pushed the mug into Anders' hands and the bartender took it out of Carver's hands, even as he cursed vividly in response. "You've had enough for one night. I am not bailing your ass out of the drunk tank again."

"Useless," Carver spat, but stumbled off without further argument to converse with a different table of men. Ones he would no doubt insult and would no doubt end up fist fighting; either drunk or fighting, or sometimes both.

"I am sorry about my brother," Hawke mumbled as she nodded to the man he'd been playing cards with. "You know my name but I don't know yours."

"This is Varric," Bethany supplied. "Very sweet, with an odd sense of humor. Actually, he kind of reminds me of you."

"Is that so?" Hawke's brow rose as said man got out of his chair, stopping short in height, coming, at most, to stand with the top of his head to her breasts. Was Bethany insinuating that she was short?

"She is right, Hawke. You and I have a lot in common, and have similar goals. I hoped I could speak with you regarding a most interesting proposition – if we are speaking monetarily." The dwarf – that's what Hawke decided to call him since he was so short – rubbed his gloved hand over his stubble.

"I have plenty of money - "

"Not enough to get your ranch back, right? Shit storm, that." The man chuckled.

"How would you know about that?" She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"There is nothing I don't know," he said with a slight shrug. "This is a small town, news travels fast. I'm rather skilled though, if I admit my talent, which I can proudly say I do. Nothing gets by me. But, this is not my purpose here, not today – I have a way for you to regain your ranch."

"You definitely have my attention, but there is a slightly more immediate matter I must see taken care of." Hawke scrubbed a hand over her face and turned back to face Anders, who watched her with a slightly amused expression on his features. She wanted to ask what it was that amused him, but this wasn't the time for that. If Fenris had an infection, it wouldn't take long for a fever to take hold, if it already hadn't in his two or three days of torture. "I need a doctor. You know where I can find one, Anders?"

The amusement faded and he regarded her with what could only be called a perplexed gaze. "What for?"

Ah, well. She couldn't tell him why without being vague if she didn't want to admit to trespassing. "I found an injured man in need of medical care," was all she supplied, her own gaze watching him thoughtfully. Why did the topic of a doctor bring such a look to his face, she wondered.

_Meredith couldn't have gone so far as to ban doctors, _she joked, but when she thought back on how tightly the woman held to her convictions, she really couldn't be so sure about that.

"Is he in our room?" Bethany gasped, eyes widening just slightly.

"It's alright, Bethany. There is nothing inappropriate going on and he won't kill us in our sleep," Hawke assured.

"Well...Anders could help."

Anders? He was the bartender, wasn't he? It wasn't his job to help with the wounded in the city, or so she thought apparently. His brow rose at her confused expression, a slight amused smirk tilting one corner of his lips. "I can help."

"You are a bartender."

"Our friend here is many things," Varric chuckled.

Hawke sighed and nodded. "I suppose we will talk about this later, but for now I need you to come with me." Anders nodded and untied his apron, folding it and setting it on the bar. "Bethany, can you handle things here on your own for a little bit?"

"Don't worry so much sister, I am not completely harmless."

"I will keep an eye on sunshine," the dwarf assured Hawke with a wink(was it right for her to really call him that?).

"Thanks."

Anders had disappeared through a door by the bar, but now he returned, a bag slung over one shoulder. He came to stand beside her, slightly readjusting the tail his hair was tied in. "Shall we go?"

"Yeah, let's. Fenris is no doubt growing impatient and suspicious." They both turned and headed out of the saloon into the still dark night just outside. Again she was with a man alone that she barely knew, yet she didn't feel as if she were in danger, just that same awareness she'd felt with Fenris. Dammit, when had Kirkwall decided to fill itself with handsome men? This wasn't why she'd come home and she couldn't let herself become distracted; she was going to do whatever it took to make sure her family home was returned to its rightful owners.

"Fenris? A strange name. One I think I would remember," Anders mused as their boots trumped through the dirt laden street. "Where did you find him?"

Hawke sighed; Anders seemed trustworthy and even if he did blab, she didn't think Cullen would jail her. "On my ranch; beaten, strung up, and starved."

"Oh shit," he breathed.

"Yes, oh shit is right."

They were silent after that, on the short walk to the inn. She wished she had taken a moment to enjoy the peace before they'd stepped into the room where Fenris waited, because when they did, everything seemed to go to hell. In a hand basket. Oh shit was definitely right.


	4. Trouble

**A/N:** I will be working Mondays through Fridays, in the mornings, 20 hours a week. I will also be attending college for 12 hours a week. That being said, I will be busy but will not fall too terribly behind on my updates. However, my net still isn't working so I will most likely be transferring my service – in the meantime, I'll be using the net at Starbucks when I get my coffee~

**Sidenote:** November marks NaNoWriMo; National Novel Writing Month. I had signed up to participate this year, so that may eat up a bit of time each night throughout November. Updates might end up being weekly during that time.

Thank you all for your alerts, favorites, and reviews; I love them all! :)

Disclaimer: DA characters belong to Bioware, but the AU idea is mine.

* * *

Out West to Kirkwall

Chapter Four: Trouble

* * *

Fenris was still seated on the edge of the bed when Josephine and Anders entered the room. He was quiet, almost eerily so. The thud of the door being shut had him looking up and looking toward them. His eyes lightened with familiarity on her, but then darkened with fury when they landed upon Anders. He growled and before either of them could react, he practically leaped across the room and grabbed the bartender by his throat as he slammed him back against the door.

"Fenris! What are you doing?" Hawke recovered quickly and crossed the distance to them, placing her hand on Fenris' shoulder to ease him with a comforting touch. Or to try at least.

"Let go of me!" Anders gasped the words out, Fenris' grip on his neck tighter than Hawke had assumed. The bartender's hands grasped at Fenris' wrist, trying to pry him loose from his neck.

"I know you! Danarius and Hadriana would bring you to me to heal my wounds if they beat me too severely. You work for them, and now I will kill you." Fenris growled the words out, his grip tightening more and more on Anders' neck, making it harder and harder for him to breathe.

Josephine's eyes widened at his words; Anders had helped the outlaws? Did he work for them, too? Damn it all, was there no one she could trust in this bloody town anymore? Although it was wrong for her to assume it was a mutual thing. The outlaws could have very well threatened Anders into helping them, right?

"Fenris! Let him go!" She gripped his shoulder tighter but he merely growled and hit Anders' head against the door. He groaned, beginning to fade, his fingers falling from the white haired man's wrist. "I'm not going to tell you again, Fenris. Let him go."

After the longest beat of her heart that she could recall, Fenris did as she said, releasing Anders and stepping back. The blond fell to his knees, coughing roughly as he grasped his bruised throat. "You so much as try anything, I won't hesitate to rip out your heart."

She sighed softly and brushed past the still seething man, kneeling down by Anders who now openly glared at him. Her own fingers brought his away from his throat, eyes taking in the bruising that now marred his pale skin. Their eyes met and her thumb brushed across his skin faintly, a spark jumping between them. She jolted, her hand dropping. "Are you alright?" She asked as she cleared her throat and stood back. She held out her hand to help him to his feet.

"I'm fine," he said hoarsely as he took her hand and stood.

"Explain yourself. Now," Fenris barked from behind her, his arms crossed over his chest and eyes narrowed menacingly.

This was certainly going well, wasn't it? Josie sighed and threw her hands up. "Alright boys, play nice. Anders could have been on that farm, tending your wounds for any number of reasons, Fenris. Just because he was there doesn't mean he was there willingly. Right Anders?"

Anders rolled his shoulders in a shrug as he readjusted the bag slung over his shoulder. "I was there willingly, but not to help them."

Fenris took a menacing step toward him but Josephine flung out her arm to cease his stride. He glared at her and she merely gazed at him with a brow raised, not backing down. After a silent battle of wills, Fenris realized he wasn't going to win and stepped back, conceding. Her gaze swung back to Anders and she nodded, gestured for him to continue. He sighed and strode past them into the room. He took a seat at the table and then gestured for them to sit as well; Fenris refused but Hawke acquiesced and seated herself across from him as he set his bag on the table top.

"She brought me here to help you, you know," Anders offered up in gesture of peace.

"A waste of time. I told her I was fine." Fenris seated himself on the edge of the bed, his glare not lessening in the slightest. "I would rather die than have you touch me."

Anders rolled his eyes. "For the love of god, you daft fool! I have never once raised my hand to hurt you. I have only ever helped you."

"Only at the behest of Danarius and Hadriana. Vile creatures. Any who associate themselves with them shall meet the same end – my hand ripping their still beating hearts from their chests." Not an empty threat, but a promise. As a bounty hunter, she had grown to gauge the intent and value of one's words. Fenris' held nothing but truth. This was certainly going to make things more difficult; she had not come home to end up entangled in webs of deceit, but was being drawn in regardless. All she wanted was to take care of what was left of her family and simply take back what rightfully belonged to her, and her family.

"Fenris, I am sure there is more than meets the eye here." Josephine folded her arms on the table. "I've been a bounty hunter for a number of years now and I've learned things aren't as always cut and dry as they appear. Sometimes we toe the line to make the right choice." He harrumphed and said nothing else so Hawke nodded to Anders. "Why did you help Danarius and Hadriana?"

"It is part of Varric's plan to take the estate out of Meredith's hands."

"Who is Meredith?" Fenris frowned, the name obviously not familiar. He apparently disliked being out of the loop, information wise.

"Meredith was a deputy to Sheriff Orsino when I left Kirkwall a few years ago to pursue a career with more monetary value," Hawke explained. "It appears she is Sheriff now."

"Your Sheriff allows outlaws on her land?" Fenris asked incredulously.

"I can't say for sure," she said after a moment, "but the Sheriff is the sole authority in Kirkwall. Meredith was always very religious, so I imagine the church has some influence over her actions. If we stand up against her decisions or orders, we are defying the law which is punishable – either by imprisonment, or death."

"And if your authority becomes corrupt?"

Anders scoffed. "Becomes corrupt? Meredith _is _corrupt. Orsino's disappearance was suspicious, but none of us could prove she had anything to do with it. As deputy, she becomes sole authority in his place. Should something happen to her, that man Cullen would become Sheriff, and so on and so forth. No one will stand up to her, however, not while she is controlling the Blood Pack. They are one of the regions most famous band of outlaws."

"They murdered my father and, as far as I can tell, they have been holding and torturing Fenris for most of his life."

"They have," he grumbled, "I remember nothing of my childhood. They made sure to torture me so severely it altered my memory."

"Well rest assured Fenris, I plan to shoot down or arrest every single one of them. Danarius and Hadriana included," Hawke assured him. "And if Meredith is corrupt, I won't hesitate to cut her down either."

"She is corrupt, there is no doubt about that. I received a letter from Orsino just before he disappeared. He was worried she was up to something, so I came to Kirkwall to help assist him, but by the time I arrived, he was gone. I have medical experience, but Meredith didn't exactly want me treating anyone she had shot or punished, so I took up as a bartender, but still offering medical help. When Hadriana came to town asking about a doctor to treat their injured slave," he gestured toward Fenris who growled in annoyance at being reminded, "I took it as the opportunity that was – a chance to scout the land, and gain inside information on the Blood Pack. Varric made sure to keep me informed of his intent and fed me up to date information. He's very good at that."

"You have a plan then?" Fenris grumbled. As much as he wanted to stay out of it, he couldn't seem to help himself when it came to inquiring of Anders' plans for the pack of outlaws. She couldn't blame him. If they had done even a fraction of what they had to Fenris on her, she would be too. She would be dead set, even more than she already was, on making them pay for what they had done.

"Sort of. Varric and I have been trying to recruit help wherever we can. It's going to take more than just a few of us to take out the pack, and who knows what Meredith is planning." Anders clucked his tongue. "Bethany has agreed to help us."

"Bethany?" Josie's mouth gaped. "She is an innocent. She has never fired a gun in her life!"

"Things have changed since you left."

She groaned and rolled her eyes. "That's what everyone keeps telling me, but come on! My sister would have told me if she had taken up training with fire arms."

"Perhaps she didn't wish to worry you," Fenris offered.

"Your sister in quite the shot with pistols, actually." Anders nodded. "And your brother is quite the brawler, but he was adamant about staying out of the conflict if he could help it." He tapped his fingers against the table in irritation. "He's quite the selfish bastard."

"Oh I know, but," she shrugged her shoulders, "he and Bethany are all the family I have left, besides that ass Gamlen. I'm surprised I haven't crossed paths with him yet."

"You don't know?"

"Don't know what?" She snapped.

"Gamlen owed quite the debt to the Blood Pack, so he is, as you'd say, working it off."

"My uncle is working _with_ the Blood Pack?" She nearly screamed the words, the thought of _any_ of her family working with the outlaws absolutely abhorrent. Anders nodded and she gripped the mug sitting on the table, throwing her arm back to hurl it across the room into the wall with a howl. Fenris and Anders both jumped in surprise, but said nothing, understanding her pain and anger in that moment. "That son of a bitch!"

"I know the man quite well and I agree fully," Anders muttered.

"I am...sorry for your betrayal." Fenris' words surprised her and they calmed her nearly instantly, as if someone had dumped a pail of ice cold water over her head. She bit the inside of her cheek and nodded. He turned his jade eyes back to the blonde. "So – your plan?"

"To take out the Blood Pack and put an end to Meredith's reign. And, if possible, find out what's happened to Orsino," he shrugged. "We haven't moved beyond planning. I have a general number of the out laws hiding out on the ranch and the general lay out."

"The lay out won't be a problem. I lived on that ranch my whole life, I know it better than anyone."

"I know much of it as well," Fenris added.

"You two will be helping then?"

"It wouldn't be right of me not to help," Josephine sighed. "It's my home and I am not going to let them get away with this. And Fenris, well – I am sure he is eager to dispense of them." He said nothing, but nodded faintly. "That makes you, Fenris, Varric, Bethany, and myself then. It's a good start."

"But not enough," Anders sighed.

"A start is better than nothing." Josie pushed herself up from the table and padded across the floorboards to the bed where Fenris sat. She knelt down and set a hand on his knee, surprised when he did not flinch or brush it away. "Will you let him take a look at your wounds now, Fenris?"

It was clear in his expression that he did not want to acquiesce and she almost felt bad for asking, but she didn't want him to succumb to infection or even death. Anders was the only one in town, that she knew of, that could help him, at least expertly. "He was not helping Danarius or Hadriana, not really. He is not your enemy, Fenris. Please at least let him take a look."

"Hawke – "

"For me if nothing else. I don't wish to see any more unnecessary deaths." Her eyes implored him to agree and finally he sighed, long and loud, and nodded. She nodded to Anders and waved him over, even though he grumbled all the way over.

"Once he is finished, you can get some rest, and tomorrow we will speak with Varric." She dropped her hand from his knee and pushed herself up. Anders took her place and set his bag down, taking out his supplies of medicine, tools, and bandages. Fenris glowered, but said not a word, nor did he flinch or grimace when the blond went about taking care of his wounds. Thankfully none of them needed stitches, just some disinfectant and bandages.

"Thank you Anders," Josie shook his hand once he was finished and cleaned up. Then she fished out some coin from her pack, pressing it into his palm. He moved to return it but she shook her head adamantly, insisting that he kept it.

"Don't hesitate to come to me if you need anything," he said with a smile. He certainly didn't mean anything inappropriate with his words and yet she still found herself blushing at the possible underlining intent of them. She nodded and walked him to the door, bolting the lock once he left. She sighed and pressed her back to it, asking her fluttering heart to cease its flutter and calm its ass down so she could breathe normally.

Kicking off from the door, she brought a blanket to Fenris and handed it to him. "You take the bed."

"I cannot," he protested.

"Fenris, take the bed. I have slept on much worse surfaces than the floor. Hell, I have even fell asleep sitting up in a chair, or standing up leaning against the wall." She chuckled. "Comes with the territory, what with stake outs and everything."

"If you insist." He stretched out on the bed, pulling the meager blanket over himself and she pouted mentally, as he was rather nice to look at(despite all the bandages that now covered his chest, arms, and back). Seemed such a shame to cover all that up.

"Goodnight Fenris." She smiled and moved back to the table with her own blanket, kicking off her boots as she seated herself. She propped her stocking coated feet on the table and leaned back in the chair, pulling the blanket across her lap. Her hand gripped her revolver loosely, in her lap, as Fenris began to doze off. She didn't get long to contemplate on her thoughts for she was soon to follow, head lolling back against the chair as her eyes closed of their own volition, leaving her mind blissfully blank as she faded into sleep.


	5. Fight or Flight?

**A/N: **Sorry the long pause in updates! I kind of fell off the grid there for awhile. Sorry, sorry, but thank you so much for your support! I adore it!

Disclaimer: Bioware owns the character, but the AU...well, yeah.

* * *

Out West to Kirkwall

Chapter Five: Fight or Flight

* * *

The nightmares had come and go since her fathers murder, but despite how many years passed, they scared her all the same; the tough, bounty hunter facade would fade in the wake of seeing her father gunned down. This night was different, though – and not in a good way. It was worse. She only watched on helplessly as her Uncle Gamlen stood over her father, laughing maniacally as he shot bullet after bullet into his body. She screeched her denial as her father's blood splattered over her uncle's manic face.

And then she was swallowed in darkness, suffocating.

She heard Gamlen's voice all around her, laughing and laughing, on and on, endlessly. She didn't care that she couldn't breathe, she just wanted to block out that damn sound. Her hands clapped over her ears and she screamed soundlessly.

Hands clutched at her and she tried to claw them away. She heard his voice calling her name, felt him shaking her, but she couldn't let him. No! She wouldn't let Gamlen kill her, he'd die first.

_Hawke! _

She stilled and managed to suck in a breath.

That wasn't Gamlen's voice.

_Hawke! Wake up! You're alright! _

Her brows furrowed and she clapped her hands over her ears again. This was a trick! Gamlen was trying to lure her into a false sense of security before he finished her off. The hands shook her again and this time she bit at them, sinking her teeth into the back of one. Her attacker growled and shook her harder, not daring to break his hold.

Had she ever heard Gamlen growl like that?

Suddenly her eyes snapped open and she screamed, bolting upright in the chair she had fallen asleep in. Fenris' face came into her view and she felt his hands on her shoulders. His chest was heaving and he had an expression that spoke of fury and bewilderment. She touched her hand to his and, when he grimaced at the contact, she could see why he was angry, or at least appeared angry. His hand was now sporting a very deep impression of her teeth; she had drawn blood, she realized, as she lifted her hand and peered at her palm.

"I'm sorry," was all she could manage to say, and lamely at that. Mentally she cursed herself. Some hardened bounty hunter she was.

Fenris merely grunted and pulled back from her, rubbing the back of his hand on his trousers to remove the blood from his skin. His narrowed jade eyes found her again after a moment, looking her over. She wondered if he was sizing her up – perhaps he thought she belonged in an asylum for the insane now. Neither of them spoke. The only sound in the room was their short, somewhat ragged, breathes.

What was it that her father had told her when she was little? – when in danger, her instinct would take over; fight or flight, he said. She wasn't in any danger now, so why did she suddenly have the urge to flee?

She finally broke the silence with a soft sigh. Her hand rubbed the back of her neck as she said, "let's just forget this happened. Sorry again about the bite."

She thought that was the end of it. Her body slouched back into the chair, though she found her gun was gone. A glance at the floor made her realize she'd dropped it at some point during her nightmare thrashing. She didn't have the energy to retrieve it in that moment.

She should have figured Fenris wasn't the type to just let something slide by when he asked, "care to tell me what just happened?"

"It's...nothing."

"Didn't look like nothing."

"It's nothing," she asserted.

He frowned but didn't say anything for a long moment. "Hawke – I'm certain you do not trust me. To be honest, I don't trust you either." She pressed her lips together thinly but didn't argue it; how could she when they were really complete strangers? "But that...that didn't look like nothing. Nightmares?" He seated himself on the edge of the bed, resting his hands on his thighs.

"Yeah," she sighed.

His eyes said he understood, yet if he did, he said nothing. "Do you have them often?"

"Sometimes," she admitted. Then she shrugged. "Haven't had them in awhile." They lapsed into silence for awhile and Fenris even move to recline back on the meager bed. "Let's just get some sleep." He said nothing, so she took that as agreement. Her eyes slid shut and after awhile, she felt herself drifting.

* * *

The sound of the door splintering off its hinges jolted Josie from her sleep. She reached for her pistol but then remembered a second too late that she hadn't retrieved it from the floor. A revolver went off and then next thing she knew she was falling out of the chair with a cry, kicking the table over with her. Fenris growled and she thought she heard a struggle, but she wasn't able to focus clearly.

She wrenched her eyes open and dove for her pistol, though her arm screamed at her in protest. A glance down told her why; whomever had fired the bullet had gotten it lodged in Josie's shoulder. Biting off a curse, she grabbed her pistol and rolled over.

Fenris was brawling with their attacker and currently had him/her pinned to the floor as he wailed his fists into his/her face. The scent of copper filled the room and Josie knew he was drawing blood, even if part of that potent scent was coming from her own wound. Their attacker growled and managed to flip Fenris off, rolling him so that he/she could turn the assault in their favor. Josie sucked in a deep breath and raised her pistol, steadying her shaking hand. Time seemed to slow as she watched a meaty fist slam into Fenris' face. Without another thought, she pulled the trigger. Their attacker stilled and promptly fell the floor without a sound.

Fenris kicked himself free of the body as his chest heaved. Her own lungs were in overdrive, she noticed, as was her thumping heart.

"Fenris, are you alright?"

"Fine," he grunted as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "I heard a shot before I got to him. Did he get you?"

Their attacker was a man then. She dropped her eyes to the corpse and finally noticed. The adrenaline rush had began to fade and she was able to once again pick out details she wouldn't normally miss. "Yeah. Got my shoulder, but I'm fine." She groaned and pushed herself up, grabbing a blouse from her pack. "Come help me tie this around my arm. Need to stop the bleeding." He did as she said and he could see the concern in his eyes as he wrapped the cloth around her wounded arm. "I'm fine, really. Comes with the job. Now – time get a close look at our attacker."

She kept her pistol in her hand just in case the man wasn't actually a corpse yet. Her brows pulled together when she realized she didn't know who this man was. Gesturing for Fenris to come closer, she asked, "do you know this man?"

He shook his head but before he could answer verbally, someone appeared in the doorway. Josie instantly lifted her gun and leveled it on the intruder. There stood another man she didn't know. Her eyes took stock; tall, tanned, eyes a nearly crystalline blue, auburn hair, and dressed in tight fitting tunic and trousers, a sheriff's badge glinting in the faint light of the room.

A sheriff's badge? She eyed him warily and did not lower her weapon. "State your name and business."

The man's lips pulled into a smirk, one she found devilishly handsome. Seriously, when had this town become infested with good looking men? Maker, maybe her sexless life was finally starting to have an effect on her. "Name's Sebastian Vael. I'm the sheriff of Starkhaven. I believe we have met a time or two, miss Hawke." Ah, Maker, they had. There was no way she could forget that voice. She'd turned in a couple of bounties in Starkhaven.

"I recall now. What's your business in Kirkwall?"

"I've come to speak with your sheriff. This man here," he gestured with a hand to the corpse on the floor, "is part of a gang called the Flint Company. They've taken a number of lives in Starkhaven. I've been hunting them down, one by one. You've even brought me one of two of them, if I remember correctly." She nodded. "It's come to my attention recently that the Flint Company has members within the Blood Pack. This man had orders to kill – excuse the crassness – the Hawke bitch."

"Just what I need," she grumbled as she slowly lowered the gun to her side. "I'm afraid talking to the sheriff isn't going to do you any good. We're pretty certain she is running the Blood Pack."

He eyed her dubiously, as if the thought of a corrupt sheriff was impossible. "Do you have proof?"

"Not exactly."

He turned his gaze to Fenris who appeared to bristle under his scrutiny. "Who is your friend?"

"My name in Fenris," he ventured cautiously.

"Listen, now that the introduction are done, we have more important issues at hand. You may not believe of us about Meredith, but we will get you proof if you need it. We could use your help. The support of a neighboring sheriff would be invaluable."

"If it is as you say it is, I would be willing to help you." Yet he made no promises.

"That's enough, for now," she supplied with a sigh. She glanced at the windows and saw that the horizon was beginning to lighten. Morning was upon them. "We were going to meet with a couple of...informants later today. Would you be willing to join us?"

"So be it. You'll find me in the church." With that he turned and disappeared down the hall. Hawke inwardly groaned; great, another religious type. Getting him on their side might end up being a little more difficult than she might have initially thought.

"I don't trust him," Fenris said after a moment.

"We don't have to trust him, not yet; we need more people to be able to stand up to Meredith and her outlaws, and a sheriff is an invaluable asset in that."

He sighed, but did not argue. "Perhaps you should get your arm looked at."

"Probably a good idea. We're going to need to see Cullen anyway, might as well go find Anders."

Might as well. It didn't seem like they had much of a choice; she couldn't lead their growing band of rebels wounded, now could she?


	6. Divide and Converge

**A/N: **It was said that my Hawke was unbelievable as a bounty hunter because of how easily she's been finding herself attracted to Fenris. I apologize if any of you see it that way, but I do have a reason for every little nuance I put into my writing. To any of you still enjoying this, I thank you immensely for your support! I grin like an idiot just to know a single person enjoys what I write. So for the reviews and follows and favorites, you have my thanks!

Disclaimer: AU idea mine, but the characters I've plopped in the story to play with belong to Bioware.

* * *

Out West to Kirkwall

Chapter Six: Divide and Converge

* * *

Josie grit her teeth against the bit but refused to show any other sign that she was in pain. She _was _supposed to be a hardened bounty hunter, or so she kept reminding herself; leaving Kirkwall hadn't exactly been what she wanted, but it had been the only option at the time. Her mother used to say that she didn't have one mean bone in her body – Hawke wondered if Leandra would say that now, after her years as a hunter. Inwardly, she scoffed. Of course she would – Josie wasn't hunter material and she knew it.

She was determined to show that she was, however.

If Anders didn't hurry and get that damned bullet out of her shoulder, she wasn't sure she would be able to keep up the facade. Damn, it hurt!

"Hold still," the blond muttered just as he dug the tool into her wound. She jerked and he sighed, yet he kept going. "I know it hurts, believe me, but if I don't get this bullet out you're liable to die from infection."

"I know," she ground out around the makeshift leather bit between her teeth, "just hurry it up."

Anders chuckled. In response, she rolled her eyes. The brief moment was enough of a distraction for Anders to get hold of the bullet in her shoulder and pull it out. Tough exterior momentarily forgotten, Josie couldn't help the groan of pain that followed.

"Got it?" She choked out.

"Got it," he assured as he tossed it into the nearby bowl. He went about cleaning her wound and she found she couldn't watch without feeling woozy, so instead she kept herself occupied by taking in his handsome features. She thought him attractive before but now, he was even more so; probably had nothing to do with the blood loss. "Have to stitch it up now. Just a few minutes more."

_Didn't feel like a few minutes. Maybe a few hours. _She grumbled to herself as he finished closing the wound and began to bandage it. Her shoulder stung like hell, but she couldn't let it slow her down from what needed to be done. When he finished and sat back, she righted her shirt and spit out the bit.

"We good?"

His look was wary at best, but he nodded his acquiescence. "I'll need to keep an eye on it as we go but yes, we're good. For now." He set about cleaning the room, which was meager. A bed, one dresser, one table, and various supplies strewn about the mess. So this is where he went when he had disappeared behind the bar to gather his supplies to help Fenris. She had expected more. Did he live here?

"Is Cullen here?" She asked the question to keep herself from asking a more personal one, one he might be uncomfortable answering. In reality, they were still strangers. It wouldn't do to pry.

He nodded curtly toward the door. "Cullen, Bethany, Varric, Fenris and...Carver."

Josie's brows rose. "Carver? I thought he was adamant in staying out of this?"

"Guess he changed his mind." Anders shrugged as he stood. "Let's go."

When they walked out into the saloon, Josie had to resist rolling her eyes. Carver was playing cards with Varric again, along with Cullen; her younger brother better think twice before trying to cheat the deputy. She doubted that he would however, because her pain in the ass little brother was exactly that – a pain in the ass. He wasn't exactly the smartest mind in town, but he was certainly the most hard headed and hot tempered. Not a good thing to mix with alcohol.

"Show your stuff Junior," Varric said with a snarky smirk. Already Josie found herself like this man, despite his height. It wasn't as awkward as she might have intentionally thought it would be.

"What did I tell you about calling me that!" Carver snapped with a pound of his fist on the table top. Neither of the men seated with him were fazed. If anything, they were amused.

"I don't seem to recall any conversation of that sort," drawled Varric. "Beside the point anyway. I got four of a kind. What you got that can beat it, _Junior_?"

Carver grit his teeth and slammed his cards down. "Bite me _dwarf_."

"Oho, dwarf, eh? That's _so _original."

"Boys, boys –" Cullen waved his gloved hand and set his cards face up on the table, "this bickering is unnecessary. It would appear I have a royal flush."

"You cheated!" Of course it was Carver shouting out the accusation.

"Really Carver?" Josie sighed as she walked toward the table. She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders in gesture that said Carver was helpless to start with the accusations whenever he lost. He really wasn't a good loser. "Accusing the deputy now?"

"But sister!"

"Don't you but me, just shut up." She smacked her hand upside his head. "Really, sometimes your sheer stupidity astounds me. That, or you really want to end up jail. Do you?"

"No," he grumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

"Good. We have more important things to discuss anyway." Josie took a glance around the room, quickly noting the missing bodies – Bethany and Fenris were nowhere to be seen. "Where's Bethany and Fenris?" Somehow the thought of the two off – possibly together – made her stomach roll uncomfortably; she couldn't fathom why – there was no way she could be jealous, so it had to be that a stranger alone with her baby sister was unsettling. They couldn't entirely trust Fenris, she knew, but she found it nearly impossible to think of him in a negative way. Considering how she'd found him, she couldn't see him harming an innocent.

"Both outside," Cullen supplied, "Bethany wanted to talk to him. I said I would go with but she was adamant in it just being the two of them." He shrugged, as confused as Josie was.

"Thanks Cullen, I'll go see what nefarious plots are about."

"Nefarious plots?" Varric laughed loudly. "I might just like you yet Hawke."

"You all will, I guarantee it." She winked before heading toward the doors, effectively leaving the room speechless in her wake.

* * *

"What is you wished to speak of?"

Fenris asked the question warily from where he was leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. It was a defensive position, he knew, but he had no idea what Hawke's sister's intent was for him. After Denarius and Hadriana, and their 'fun', he wasn't about to rule out anyone as a suspect for torture. The girl looked innocent enough, big eyes and delicate raven hair framing her oval face, but he knew better than anyone that looks were often deceiving.

"Ah, well," she shuffled nervously, "I am worried about my sister."

One of his brows lifted. "Due to being involved with me?" He couldn't blame her for her worry, not if the stares they were getting from the passing townsfolk were any indication of how he was being perceived.

"Yes, Mr. Fenris...ah, I don't really know much about you but if you are any danger to my sister, I want to ask you to move on."

"Any danger to your sister...?" He repeated the question, rolling the words around on his tongue experimentally. He _was _a danger to Hawke, but no more danger than she was already planning to place herself in. "Your plan is much more dangerous than my presence."

She blanched. "I'm aware of this but –"

"There's no but here." He shrugged. "I am a danger, I won't deny it, but what you and your little...group have in mind, is much more dangerous so I would assume the more numbers you have, the more you have a chance of succeeding."

Her mouth opened and shut wordlessly, but then she shrugged her shoulders and held out her hand. He took it warily and they tentatively shook, as if in agreement to a wordless contract; it was better if they had him than if they didn't. "You got me there...but don't think I won't shoot you the moment I think you're more a danger than a help." She said the words sternly as she took her hand back, surprising the hell out of him. For such an innocent looking little girl, she sure had balls.

_Must be a family trait_, he mused, thinking briefly of Hawke. _Definitely a family trait. _

"Fenris was it?"

The voice had them both turning, their eyes falling on the man standing nearby. The same auburn haired man that had been in Hawke's room, chasing that assassin – that sheriff, Sebastian. He turned to face the lawman, recrossing his arms. "And you are Sebastian."

"Who?" Bethany came to stand beside him, eying the new man up and down. "You know this man?" The question was skeptical, as if she found it odd that he were acquainted with a sheriff.

Fenris eyed the man carefully, wondering how much to spill, but before he could, they were interrupted.

"His name is Sebastian Vael. He is the Sheriff of Starkhaven." Josie stepped down the steps leading into the saloon and headed toward them. She didn't stop until she stood at Fenris' side, if not a little in front of him. "He and I are acquainted. He and Fenris met this morning when one of the Flint Company broke into my room and tried to kill me."

"Kill you!" Bethany exclaimed, her eyes widening.

"Yes, hence the bullet wound." Bethany nodded but was still pale; Fenris had a hard time believing this young woman was as skilled a sharp shooter as Anders said. "You said you would be at the church, Sebastian. Did you have a change of heart?"

Sebastian's cool blue gaze watched them, assessing them. He adjusted his hat and then nodded, hooking his thumbs in his belt. "I thought much about what you said and realized I could not allow time to be wasted if the Sheriff of Kirkwall is truly corrupt." His gaze lifted to the saloon sign behind them. "The Hanged Man? This is where you meet then?"

"It is," Josie shrugged. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"Not necessarily," he said haltingly. "I don't drink, however."

"It's more of a home base than anything." Bethany said nervously, fingering the fabric of her skirt.

Hawke nodded and gestured toward the entrance."Come inside then." The Sheriff nodded and strolled past them, Bethany right on his heel, a faint blush in her cheeks; Fenris' brow lifted and an amused smirk found its way across his lips.

"I think your sister might have a crush on the Sheriff," he mused, starting to follow. Hawke reached out and grasped his arm, surprising him into stopping. He glanced back at her troubled expression. "What is it?"

"What did Bethany want to talk to you about?" She didn't seem to realize she had his arm until he tugged it back. Her eyes widened slightly and she dropped her hand, taking a step back. "Sorry," she mumbled.

He shrugged his shoulders dismissively, eyes wandering away from her. "She was warning me."

"Warning you?" The surprise was evident in her voice.

"To stay away from you if I thought myself to be a danger to you."

"She did what?" Now she sounded mad. He dared to look back at her and her expression was indeed one of irritation. She tugged on the ends of her hair and bit her lip. "Damnit, Bethany! I'm a grown woman!" She said the words in frustration, stalking past him.

"Hawke?"

"What?" She glanced back at him sharply, but he refused to be intimidated. How could he, when he knew how easily he could break her?

"Nothing. Let's go." He headed past her, deciding not to ask whether or not she was okay. They were still strangers, after all, even if he was beginning to realize he wanted more than that. He didn't want to be a stranger to her. That was the most surprising thing he'd decided upon since she'd taken him from that horrible place where he had thought there was no reason to hope for anything better.

Something about her gave him reason to hope. And that was something he'd given up on a very long time ago.


	7. Rule One

**A/N: **Finally all moved and settled; alas, I'm sorry about the lack of updates. Real life has a tendency of swamping me sometimes and now that things are settling down again, I'm sick. Ugh! Anyway, I am sorry about the lack of updates. I hope you enjoy the new installment! Things are getting a little trickier with this, but it's still fun to work it out. :)

Again, thank you for your support! For everything; reviews, alerts, favorites! I love every little bit, thank you!

**Disclaimer: **Don't own DA, but I'm having fun with the AU.

* * *

Out West to Kirkwall

Chapter Seven: Rule One

* * *

"Everything seems to be coming along nicely," Anders mused as he brought Josie a drink. His amber eyes flitted behind her briefly to the people assembled in his bar. "I'm a touch surprised your brother hasn't managed to get himself shot though. That new sheriff might get a bullet or two, if he keeps preaching on the way he is."

"Religion not your thing?" She took a swig of the whiskey and grimaced as it burned down her throat.

"No, but before you judge me, I have my own reasons."

Her brow rose as she chuckled. "Careful there. It was just a question," she said as she held up her hands in a gesture of peace. "To be honest, I'm not sure religion is my thing either. I've met too many corrupt who claim to do what they do in God's name."

"Meredith is a prime example," he muttered.

Josie took another swig. This time she found herself enjoying the burn. Life had become such a mess since her return and it seemed to be getting worse each minute that passed. When had Kirkwall become so corrupt? It hadn't been the nicest place when she'd left, but it hadn't been corrupt; even Meredith had seemed the likable sort. Not nice but she hadn't hated her either. Now there was the Blood Pack, her mother was dead, her uncle a traitor; slaves and her father's murderers; a corrupt sheriff with unknown motives. A part of her almost wished she'd stayed away.

Her eyes wandered to where Bethany and Carver sat amongst the group. Her sister was still fawning over Sheriff Sebastian and Carver was once again in argument with Cullen and Varric about cards. She was reminded why she'd come home. Bethany and Carver were the only family she had left and she was going to get back what rightfully belonged to them before she even considered leaving Kirkwall again.

Then there was Fenris; a slave of the Blood Pack and with no memory before his enslavement. She couldn't very well just leave him here. In a way, she'd begun to feel like she had to do whatever she could to make his life better.

Cullen certainly didn't deserve to be the underling of a deranged sheriff. She remembered his gentle smile and the brief, still remembered, crush she'd had on him. She may have taken the lead in her family, but Cullen had always been her secret pleasure. Whenever she had been overwhelmed, or needed a moment, Cullen had never hesitated to be there for her.

Then there was Anders. It was clear Meredith and the Blood Pack was making his life hard. Obviously hard enough for them to form a rebellion group. To think she had gone as far to make Anders worry for practicing his doctoring in public; what kind of sheriff didn't let the doctor help those in need?

The goal was clear – in order for everything to be set right, for all of them, something had to be done about Meredith and her Blood Pack.

"Hawke?"

His voice and his warm, calloused touch on the back of her hand made her snap to. Anders was looking at her with that warm gaze, concern etched between his brows. She tried not to look embarrassed. He'd caught her mind wandering, when she should have been listening to him. Although she couldn't recall if he had even been speaking.

"Sorry."

"Don't be," he chuckled. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Depends, but I'm all ears. Shoot." She withdrew her hand and propped her chin in it.

"I didn't really want to mention this in front of the others, but seeing as they are somewhat occupied right now..." He paused and rubbed the back of his neck with his palm. "Okay, here goes – I came to Kirkwall because of a friend. His name is Karl Thekla."

"Is he in trouble?"

She downed the last of the whiskey, clearing her throat as she passed him the glass. He took it and rinsed it briefly, before using a dry towel to dry it as he spoke. "We were friends in Ferelden once, when we were detained upon suspicion of being members of another prominent gang called the Chasind. He was sent here to Kirkwall when Meredith wanted to take over his questioning. We kept in touch but his most recent letters have been troubling. He spoke of Meredith's spiral downwards, about how she wouldn't even consider that he was innocent. She was forcing him to remain here, threatening him with some new, radical treatment that would alter his mind if he chose to ignore her order and leave."

"Radical treatment that alters your mind?" Josie straightened. She'd heard of such a thing once, back in the city of Denerim. She had thought it to be just rumors.

"Yes. I don't know the details about how it's done, just that it makes you an emotionless puppet. Lobotomizes you, in a sense." He finished drying the glass and set it back underneath the counter top. "He told me he'd been planning to escape but some of Meredith's men came across one of our letters. It was months before I finally managed to get a reply. We agreed to meet at the church at midnight, tonight."

"You sound worried."

"I am." He nodded. "I know what Meredith is capable of."

"It's good you brought this to me. It would be unwise to go alone at that time of night, especially with suspicions of it being a trap. Honestly, if he didn't answer for such a long time, then suddenly agreed to meet you...well, in my experience, that screams of a set up."

"I know."

"You want to go, despite that."

"Yes."

"Midnight it is then." She glanced back towards the group as Carver exclaimed something about how pretty boys always get the attention. Bethany was red to the roots of her hair, obviously embarrassed. Thankfully, it seemed Sebastian remained oblivious.

"That's it?"

She moved her eyes back to Anders and raised a brow in question. "Is what it?"

He blinked and shrugged his broad shoulders. "I...didn't expect it to so easy is all."

"I'm the charitable sort," she teased with a wink. She almost laughed when he blushed. "Your friend is in trouble, Anders. What kind of friend would I be if I said no? Hell, what kind of _person _would I be?"

* * *

Leaving the room turned out to be easier than she'd planned.

Fenris had fallen into a trouble sleep shortly after their return that night. Bethany would have come back to the room, but she'd had to take a drunk Carver back to his room and no doubt had stuck around to make sure he didn't end up in jail again. Sebastian had retired to a room down the hall shortly after; she'd heard him return. Varric stayed at the Hanged Man with Anders.

It didn't appear he'd had any trouble though. He was already waiting outside of the bar for her, when she came out with a yawn. "Didn't have any trouble getting away from Varric?" She asked.

He shook his head. "No doubt he's entertaining. I was more worried about you, what with how many people are suddenly set up in the Inn."

"It was a bit of a rowdy night," she teased. "My brother was drunk, as you know. Bethany is with him. Fenris is out. I'm not sure out our newest sheriff, but his door remained shut as I slipped out."

"Shall we go then?"

She nodded and they started down the road. It wasn't far to the church; down the road, past the marketplace, and around the corner. She wanted to chat with him as they walked in silence, but she could feel the tension thrumming in the air. There was a chance his friend was in danger. It was hard to make small talk with that kind of worry on your shoulders.

She could _feel _the ominous air as they came to a stop in front of the church a short time later. Her palm itched for her revolver.

"Ready?" He asked. She nodded and adjusted her hat to better shield her face. He opened the door and they stepped inside quietly, the door slowly easing shut behind them.

The church was quiet, the moonlight streaming through the window to pour illumination across the forward pews. A cloaked figure sat there, still and silent. Anders eased toward the form, reaching out with a gloved hand. The cloaked figure stood and turned to face them, scarred hands pulling the hood down to reveal a weathered, stoic face; the pain was etched there in the lines around his eyes, but those eyes were empty, detached.

"I knew you would come, Anders. I know you too well. I knew you would never give up." The voice might have sounded familiar to Anders but there was no emotion in it, just a detached clarity as if the man were speaking a fact and nothing more. Anders took a step back, shaken. Josie could understand; her own stomach had dropped and she felt as if she might be sick.

"Why are you talking like this?" Anders and Josie both then looked at Karl's forehead as he took a step into the moonlight. A brand was _burned _there. From what she could see, it was in the shape of a sun. The hell was going on here? What exactly was Meredith doing? "No! What has she done to you, Karl?"

"I was too rebellious, like you. Meredith and her men knew I needed to be made an example of. You'll understand soon, Anders. She'll teach you to control yourself." His eyes wandered to Josie and she shuddered. "You, too, will understand."

"Understand what? That Meredith is a monster?" Josie took a step forward but stopped when the sound of the church doors opening reached her ears. She snapped around, hands immediately falling to her holstered pistols.

"This is a nice surprise," said a woman. "I expected the doctor, but _Josie Hawke_?"

"Who's there?" Josie's hand was nearly a blur as she pulled her revolver free, finger pulling back the hammer as she aimed it toward the woman standing in the open doors.

"Oh don't mind little old me. I procured Karl to get me a doctor, but this is even better." She stepped forward into the church, not intimidated in the least about the gun leveled on her. When she came into the light, Josie was struck by the beauty the woman possessed; tall, tan, slender, all woman. Her hair was jet black and sleek, eyes big, alluring, and almost the color of gold. "I'm in need of assistance."

"This isn't a trap?" Josie looked behind the scantily dressed woman, suspicious.

"It was but I took care of Meredith's men."

"You did?" Josie looked over the woman skeptically. She looked like she entertained men rather than killing them.

"I did." She flicked her hair over a bare shoulder, smiling coyly. "You may call me Isabela. I shall await you outside. In the meantime...you should decide what you wish to do with your friend, doctor, but I warn you that he is beyond help. What's been done to him can't be undone."

With that, she swept out the door as gracefully as she come, leaving Anders and Josie standing inside wondering what the hell had just happened. Josie looked at Karl then and knew what had to be done; she wouldn't want to live that way, but Anders might be hanging onto the hope that something could be done to help his friend.

Isabela's words were haunting. Meredith was much more dangerous than Josie had assumed. She'd done the one thing she knew better to do, a mistake that – as a bounty hunter – could very easily cost her everything, including her life.

Another glance to Karl only pressed that fact home; she'd underestimated Meredith. Bounty Hunter 101 – _never _underestimate your enemy.


	8. Fools Rush In

**A/N: **Thank you for your kind reviews regarding the last chapter. My biggest fear with this piece is being able to incorporate situations from the game without distorting it too much. I want to fit in as many of the characters as I can. I appreciate the support! Much love is sent through the internet to you for supporting me in this endeavor.

In my profile there is an important note about my schedule.

**Disclaimer: **Bioware owns the Dragon Age universe, but I've borrowed the sandbox for AU fun.

* * *

Out West to Kirkwall

Chapter Eight: Fools Rush In

* * *

The atmosphere on the walk back toward the Hanged Man was morose at best. Anders was distraught at having to end his friend's life and Josie, the empathetic sort, shared his pain. She knew what it was like to lose a loved one and she didn't wish that pain on anyone, save perhaps the sadistic criminals she hunted down in her profession.

"I'm sorry about your friend but it was the right thing to do. It would have been cruel to leave him that way," she said softly, trying to lessen his pain with reasoning.

"I know," he sighed. After a moment of silence he stopped and gripped her wrist, effectively stopping her as well. He turned her toward him, resting his hands on her shoulders. His warm amber eyes, tinged with sadness, searched her face intently. "Listen Josie – whatever it is that Meredith has cooked up, I want no part in it. If I am captured, she would no doubt do the same to me as she did to Karl. I want you to promise me that you won't let me live like that."

"Anders, I –"

He shook her, just slightly. "Please. It is a promise I must have before we go any further."

She could understand his desperation. She even agreed with it. Her head bobbed in a firm nod as she placed her hands on his wrists. "Very well Anders. You have my promise. Only if you promise me the same."

"I have already put down one friend...but if that is your wish, then I give you my promise."

Her fingers squeezed around his wrists with reassurance before they both drew away. They continued on toward the Hanged Man in silence. It wasn't long before the saloon came into view, with the tall, scantily dressed Isabela leaning against its hitching post. When she saw them, her lips curled into a coy smile. Her short, hitched up skirts swirled around her legs as she made her way toward them. Josie was ashamed to realize her eyes kept dipping to the woman's impressive cleavage, nearly spilling out over her tightly cinched corset. How could they not? Even though she didn't favor woman's company in that manner, Isabela had to be one of the most attractive females she had ever laid eyes on.

"Like what you see, pet?" The woman questioned as she stopped a few feet in front of them, her hand on her hip. Her golden eyes twinkled mischievously and Josie found herself blushing embarassingly at having been caught ogling. And ogling a woman no less. It was very unlike her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to –"

"Oh please, don't apologize. I would think there was something wrong with you if you _weren't _looking." Isabela chuckled and turned her gaze toward Anders. "Like in his case. Not once has his eyes dipped to my breasts." She pursed her lips into a mock pout. "A shame. You're not half bad, doctor."

"You are not my type," Anders said with shrug of one shoulder. "It is also not the time."

"Ah, yes. Your friend. I do hope you didn't let him suffer."

"I didn't," he said tensely.

"Good. Believe me when I say that he is better off. I have seen Meredith's handiwork before. That is no way to live." She sighed loudly, almost obnoxiously, as she slid her fingers through her dark hair. Seemingly frustrated with it, the woman took a bandana from between her cleavage and tied it around her hair. "That aside," she returned her attention to Josie, "I would like your help in solving a little problem I have."

"I suppose I can assist you," Josie offered cautiously. It would be foolish to agree to helping a complete stranger and yet, she felt no danger emanating from this woman. At least, none directed at herself or at Anders.

"Someone from my past has been pestering me. I've arranged for a...meeting. A duel, if you will. If I win, he is to leave me alone," she explained as she began pacing in the dirt. "But I don't trust him to play fair. I need someone to watch my back and your reputation proceeds you, Hawke. I couldn't ask for better support."

"I'm curious to know who this person is that we're supposed to...meet."

"His name is Hayder. We worked together back in Antiva." Josie nodded, recalling briefly of a time she'd taken a bounty to the northern city. A very plentiful bounty; she sent much money home that winter, though later she'd found out Carver had wasted away most of it. "Hayder has never liked me. He's been asking of me all around Kirkwall."

"Ah, yes. About a week ago, I was questioned about a promiscuous beauty with a sharp tongue," Anders chuckled.

"Precisely why I sought you out. Hawke here is more than I could have hoped for. I thought to finally get this over with, face to face." Isabela sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "He is becoming a bit of a pest."

"What exactly makes you think I am right for this?" asked Josie.

"I can't trust the riff raff in this town to be of any help but you...you are different."

"I think I can manage watching your back," she agreed.

Isabela grinned, like a cat with her cream. She chuckled and approached, touching the tip of her finger under Josie's chin. "I'll bet you can," she purred. "I've arranged to meet Hayder just outside of town. Shall we go?"

"Now?" Anders balked. "Short notice, don't you think?"

"I wouldn't have lured you to help me if the need wasn't immediate. Now, shall we?" The woman didn't wait for them to agree, she turned and began to saunter her way down the road in those impossibly long, leather boots. Stunned, Josie watched her go.

"Well, shall we?" She finally managed to shake herself out of her shock and awe, gesturing for Anders to begin following Isabela. He sighed with exasperation but nodded. It wasn't as if he were in the position to deny her his help, not after what she had done for him.

* * *

The man, Hayder, was waiting just outside of town as Isabela had said. He strolled away from the post he was leaning on, toward them with a poisonous leer.

"Isabela, should have known you'd find me here." He spat on the ground, crossing his arms over his chest. He very obviously did not care for her newest companion; Josie found herself curious as to why that was. "Castillion was heartbroken when you disappeared. You should have let him know you were still alive."

"It must have slipped my mind," Isabela replied nonchalantly.

"Where's the relic, Isabela?" Hayder sneered the question as other men, and a woman, came from the shadows of a nearby shed. Josie had to think exactly where it was that they were, but couldn't linger on that long considering they were outnumbered eight to three. She put her hand on her pistol, the one angled away from Hayder and his cohorts. If Anders thought Bethany was a quick and precise shot, he was in for a rude awakening – her sister had no doubt learned from watching Josie as she practiced.

"I lost it," she said simply, "Castillion is just going to have to do without."

"Lost it? Just like you lost the valuable cargo?"

"They weren't cargo, Hayder!" Now Isabela turned angry, her fists clenched at her sides. "They were people!"

"They were valuable slaves and you let them scurry off into the deserts," he snapped. "And now you've even lost the relic. Castillion won't be happy to hear that, I assure you."

"Explain. Now." Josie narrowed her eyes on the squirmy man. "And don't bother with lies – I am very good at detecting them."

"Isabela has been a very bad girl," Hayder explained, "ruined a prefect business deal and then ran away."

"We can talk about this later if you wish, Hawke," Isabela mumbled. "Right now we have more pressing matters."

Josie sighed and nodded once. She turned her attention back to the man, opting for a diplomatic solution before she opened fire on Hayder and his cohorts. "You don't have to tell Castillion about Isabela," she offered.

Hayder didn't go for it, as she knew he wouldn't. "My life is worth more than that whores. If I cross him, he will kill me."

Isabela growled at being called a whore and Josie couldn't blame her. "Only one way to settle this," Isabela exclaimed. Before Josie could blink, the woman ripped a dagger from underneath her skirts and flung it with astounding precision into the woman standing beside Hayder. The blade sunk between her eyes, effectively dropping their numbers down to seven as she collapsed to the dirt dead. Josie didn't hesitate. Her revolver out and hammer back, she fired into the scrambling men. Two down, then three. Soon Anders made his way into the brawl, expertly slicing the throat of one man who had allowed himself to be distracted by Josie's revolver.

Before long and after much blood shed, only Hayder was left standing. "All yours," Josie said after felling him with a well placed duo of shots to his knee caps. Isabela rubbed her hands together and took her up on the offer. After a moment and a snide comment, they were once again standing together in silence, only this time they were covered in blood.

Josie grimaced; laundry wasn't exactly high on her to do list. On top of that, explaining it away to her sister and to Fenris wasn't going to be easy if she opted out of telling them the truth. She decided to leave that up to Isabela, since this was no one's business but hers.

"Castillion won't hear about me from Hayder but he'll find me eventually." Isabela sighed and wiped her bloody hands on her skirts before she turned to face them. "I will just have to find him the relic."

"What is so interesting about this relic?"

"I don't really know what it is," Isabela replied nervously. "All I know is that it's very old and worth my weight in gold. Castillion had me chasing it down as a punishment for freeing his slaves."

"I will help you find this relic, provided I have the time," Josie offered. "Things in Kirkwall are a bit on edge right now, though, so I cannot promise that it will be high on my to do list."

Isabela nodded and took her hand. "I don't know where it is but I promise you will be the first to know if I learn anything of use. Anyway, thanks for helping me out with Hayder." She smiled coyly then, chucking her finger under Josie's chin as she had done earlier. "I think I might tag along. Could be interesting. Never know, there might be something I could do for you, pet. I've procured a room at the Inn, should you decide you want company later." With a wink, she stepped back and away. "Ta-ta for now, Hawke."

She supposed she couldn't deny the woman her offer to help, even if it was laced with innuendos for so much more. When she glanced over at Anders, she was amused to see him nearly as shocked as her. "What do you think Anders?"

"I...I find myself speechless," he admitted.

"Good, at least I am not the only one." She yawned and stretched, sighing when she felt the stiffness in her clothes caused by the blood coating them. "We should get back. This will be interesting to explain away."

He looked down at himself, as if only now discovering the blood on his clothes. "It's a good thing I'm a doctor who's used to this sort of thing."

"Well then it's a good thing I'm a bounty hunter who's used to this sort of thing. Doesn't mean I like it though," she muttered as she headed back. Anders chuckled as he stepped in line behind her.

Certainly had been an interesting night, to say the least.


End file.
